


Smoke

by Blackavar



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, shotgun kissing, slightly angsty, slightly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 11:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5584336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackavar/pseuds/Blackavar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tendo sits back in his chair and grins, “not my fault that I'm irresistible to the ladies my friend, I just got what they like is all,” he takes a long pull from his beer.</p>
<p>Yancy laughs, then something daring flashes behind his blue eyes, “just the ladies Mr. Choi?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Stumbled across this Yancy/Tendo trash on my hard drive. 
> 
> I'm no author and this isn't polished, but it was written straight from the heart, because this film broke it.

Tendo Choi doesn't sleep much anymore. It's not that he doesn't want to – power naps are his new favourite hobby – but he knows how reliant the entire Shatterdome is on him and if it means going without sleep for seventy two hours at a time well....at least there's coffee. So when Stacker Pentecost looms behind him whilst he's downing his fourth mug that day and flat out orders him to go get some sleep and not to come back until morning on threat of dishonourable discharge (he wasn't even a soldier,) he takes the opportunity. 

In the gloom of his bedroom, the darkness is cool against his eyes that ache from staring at screens all goddamn day, hour after hour but already his body is numb, pure exhaustion taking over as he starts to drift off. Thoughts of jaegers and kaiju dissolve into the abyss, sweet nothing starts to take over. 

Then Gipsy Danger starts knocking on the side of his head. Which doesn't make sense, Gipsy is far too big to be crouched in his bedroom, but there's a definite metallic knocking coming from somewhere. He groans and kicks back the covers. 

Pulling on a thin tank, Tendo staggers blearily to his bedroom door and heaves it open. Yancy Becket, who'd been leaning on the door frame, takes one look at him and immediately looks sheepish. Tendo suddenly feels immensely self conscious of his dishevelled hair. 

“Ah shit, sorry Tendo, didn't realise you'd be asleep already,” the blond is already turning his body away as if to leave but Tendo holds up a hand, scrubbing at his tired eyes with the other. 

“It's ok man, I wasn't. Well not quite anyway,” he leans on the steel door, rubbing absent-mindedly at the back of his neck, “something gone wrong with the comms? Kaiju? Please don't say it's a kaiju...”

Yancy somehow finds it in himself to chuckle, moving so the dim lighting illuminates the dark bags under his crinkled eyes. He looks as dog tired as Tendo feels. 

“Nah relax, it's just I couldn't sleep and figured I'd go for a drink, take in the local nightlife you know? Only going alone is pretty sad and Raleigh's asleep...” he pauses, waiting for Tendo to ask him why he doesn't just haul his younger brother out of bed - the kid would be bouncing off the walls in seconds, but Tendo doesn't have to - he knows the Becket boys well enough to understand why. “And er, I figured you might be up for it, being the man about town and all,” Yancy stuffs his hands in the deep pockets of his leather jacket, trying for nonchalance. But his shoulders are taut and there's a furrow between his brow - a little downturn at the corners of his mouth. He needs this, Tendo realises, and this Chief Tech is nothing if not a good friend to a jaeger pilot in need. 

“Just...give me five yeah?” 

\-----------------------------------

It had taken him a little longer than five minutes to get ready - gelling back his hair just about sapped the last of his energy, but stumbling out of the door to find that Yancy had jogged to the canteen to grab him a polystyrene cup of black coffee undeniably put the first smile on his face all day. 

Despite the earlier threat of a kaiju attack, the streets are buzzing and the bars are heaving with people desperately trying to have fun, party hard and get laid before the apocalypse finally reaches their front door. If he ever allowed himself the time to pause and think about it, Tendo would probably be doing the same. Together they join the ranks of the bar hoppers and choose a spot sat on the beer garden balcony of some hole-in-the-wall place Tendo had visited with a girl from engineering a couple of nights ago. The girl turned out not to be his type (and attached, of course) but the bar, on the other hand, had him completely charmed. 

Sipping chilled beer does his frayed nerves the world of good - one look across the table at Yancy confirms the pilot is already feeling better for being away from claustrophobic warrens of the Shatterdome. He glances around, looking for a further distraction and spots one.

Tendo points at a lone woman in a red sun-dress leaning against the bar, her skin dark and hair even darker, “why not give her a go, she's a looker dontcha think?” Yancy took a glance over his shoulder - the woman seemed to know she was being admired, tilting her head and smiling shyly at them both. Yancy quickly looks back down at his beer, long fingers beginning to pick at the label. The heat of the evening is making the veins stand out in his hands and forearms, corded muscle twitching each time he pulls at the thin paper. Tendo tries not to stare.

“I appreciate what you're trying to do man, but my head, it's,” the pilot waved the hand that had been peeling the label off his beer in the air, trying to articulate his thoughts, “not in the right place for that,” he nods and goes back to fiddling with the bottle, “'sides, pulling groupies has always been more Raleigh's game-” Yancy raises an eyebrow and tilts his blond head in Tendo's direction, “and yours.” 

Tendo sits back in his chair and grins, “not my fault that I'm irresistible to the ladies my friend, I just got what they like is all,” he takes a long pull from his beer.

Yancy laughs, then something daring flashes behind his blue eyes, “just the ladies Mr. Choi?” 

The beer he'd been swallowing almost backwashes straight back into the bottle. Yancy's gaze on him is steady and playful but the pilot's fingernails are digging back into the torn beer label with a vengeance. Tendo forces down the mouthful of beer before setting his drink on the table and leaning forward so that his weight rests on both elbows. He's riding both a caffeine and alcohol high tonight– sure, he can play if Yancy wants to, he's good at this game. 

“Well I won't deny it Mr. Becket, when you look this good, sometimes the gents come a-knocking too,” Yancy is watching him intently and Tendo leans a little closer, the thrum of the alcohol in his veins is frying whatever sensible circuits were still left in his brain. Maybe the constant reminder that each day could be their last is partly to blame too. He drops his voice a pitch,“thing is though, it's not like it is with the ladies you understand...” he knows he's drawling now, something that's always seemed to work in the past, and sure enough, the other man is wordless, fingers finally stilled and instead wrapped tightly around the almost empty bottle. Tendo drags a loosely clasped hand down around his own beer bottle, the condensation wetting his palm. He grins wide, knowing, and full of teeth, “ yeah you understand Yance, though most importantly man, most importantly, the gent in question has to be pretty. Fuckin'. Special.”

He sits back again and downs the rest of his drink in one gulp, breaking Yancy out of his spell as he slams the bottle back down on the wooden table with a thump.  
Yancy blinks quickly for a few seconds and raises his own bottle, “Mr. Choi, you have a gift,” he declares shakily, then follows suit in downing his remaining beer. Tendo winks at him. 

\-----------------------------------

They order more drinks, the night turning cooler and the street lights brighter. People get drunk and leave, then others take their place - the pretty woman in the red sun dress is long gone. They talk about everything, from Raleigh to Yeye, jaegers to old flames. Yancy worries constantly that his brother is going to get himself killed, makes Tendo almost glad that he himself has no family left to lose. He shares this with Yancy who looks stricken and takes his shoulders tightly in two big scarred hands and assures him vehemently that he has family, people who care, in the PDCC. The pilot doesn't let go until Tendo half smiles and nods along with him.

“What's the time?” Yancy asks suddenly, swilling the last of his drink around in its tumbler. 

Tendo glances at his watch and wonders when his rare early night became the more common early-morning-and-still-at-the-bar. “Late enough that we should be getting back,” he replies reluctantly, his own glass long empty. Yancy nods to himself and finishes the amber liquid with a satisfied smack of his lips whilst Tendo reaches behind himself into a jacket pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before digging around in another pocket for a lighter.

“You still smoking? Takes years off your life you know,” Yancy's pulling on his 'Gipsy Danger' leather jacket, mouth set in an appraising line as he watches Tendo slot a cigarette between his lips.

“Yeah? They say the same about being a jaeger pilot,” he replies out the corner of his mouth, reaching for the lighter – a gift from an ex that long outlasted her. Yancy and his honed reflexes get there first though and for a second, Tendo thinks he's going to deny him the chance to light up. Instead, the pilot only gives him a look, then clicks the lighter open for him, the flame flickering in the cool night breeze.

“Thanks,” he mutters, leaning in then taking a drag whilst Yancy closes the lighter with an audible click. The nicotine clears his mind and they sit in companionable silence for a little while longer – Tendo blowing trails of smoke and watching them slowly dissolve into the night whilst Yancy fiddles with the lighter, blunt fingernails catching on the engraving. 

“I used to smoke you know, when I was younger, before I was a pilot,” Yancy swallows, “after mom died.” He leans over and gently sets the lighter down in front of Tendo, “I quit because of Raleigh, didn't want him picking up his big brother's bad habits you know.”

Tendo slowly exhales a trail of smoke, dark eyes locking with Yancy's blue. He nods towards the pack on the table beside the lighter, “you can have one you know, I won't tell little bro,” but Yancy just shakes his blond head with a smile, although the look on his face is wistful. Tendo breathes in deep, breathes out and looks over his shoulder. The bar is almost empty, the other patrons slumped over their own drinks or engrossed in their own business. Good.

Picking up his chair by the arms, he shuffles up close to Yancy's, the cigarette held tightly between his lips. He's up close enough now that even through the smoke he can smell the other man - the fresh smell of his shower gel and spicy scent of his cologne and whatever rich musk below them both that is just plain Yancy. Tendo can smell Gipsy on him too, almost overpowered by the scent of the leather jacket bearing her name. The metallic tang of her takes him back into the comm room where he and Yancy and Raleigh (don't think of Raleigh right now) spar and banter and joke because everytime the brothers march out into the ocean it's like they're marching off to hell and it's that tinny comm line between them all that is the only fragile thread they all have to help them find their way in the dark.

Yancy is looking at him funny now, blues eyes flicking between Tendo's mouth, and some point just below his hairline. The air surrounding them is stifling – his shirt is suddenly sticking to his back and the leather of Yancy's jacket creaks as the other man leans in a little closer, waiting. Tendo is pretty damn sure his pupils are blown like saucers and it occurs to him that he's been staring an awfully long time so he takes a deep, final drag from his cigarette and holds it as he reaches for Yancy, taking his friend's face in both hands and gently pulls him closer. Then their open mouths are pressed together, tentatively at first, then Yancy surges forward and sucks in deeply as Tendo exhales the smoke until his lungs are empty and he can give the other man no more. He barely registers a big hand gripping his knee and another carded in his hair until he retreats to breathe and Yancy follows, crowding him, only allowing him a small gasp of air before covering his mouth again with a searing kiss that makes every piece of clothing Tendo is wearing feel a size too small. 

Raucous laughter makes them jump apart, ash dropping from the cigarette that's burning a little too close to Tendo's fingers. They share a glance and a breathless laugh, not quite able to meet each other's eyes.

Yancy swallows and shoves his hands in his pockets, seems to gather himself, “so, can we go back to yours?”

Tendo grins and stubs out the cigarette. 

\-----------------------------------

They come together, hard, on Tendo's narrow bed and it's so good that Tendo doesn't even care that his hair is messed up beyond repair when they're done and he's only left with 3 hours before he has to be up and working. 

It happens again after the Becket's next successful mission, then again when Tendo has a rare evening to spare, until it happens whenever Yancy can sneak out when Raleigh is either asleep or not around. They both know that he knows, because of the Drift, and Yancy assures Tendo that he doesn't care - “actually he's pleased, more groupies for him apparently,” Yancy says bemusedly as Tendo watches him dress from where's he's lying upside down on the bed smoking a post coital cigarette, bow tie still in place. The jaeger pilot shrugs on his jacket and turns to leave, “you're pretty fuckin' special Yance, you know that” Tendo tells him from his vantage point and Yancy just smiles and laughs as if there weren't a war raging outside - but when Raleigh joins them on their excursions to bars, they all drink and talk and laugh together. Because first and foremost they're a team. The winning team. 

Then one day off the coast of Alaska, the Becket boys march their way down to hell and only one comes back. 

Tendo allows himself a day. A single day to mourn. He holes himself up in his room with a bottle of whiskey he'd planned to share and sits on his bed, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed and rosary gently swaying back and forth as he sobs. Until he hurls it across the room and screams and yells and rages against the unfairness of it all. He weeps for Yeye, for the Becket brothers, for every soul that has been ripped from a loved one by this madness. And then when his throat is so sore that he can't scream anymore and the whiskey is all gone, he crawls into bed and cries for Yancy until exhaustion takes over and he passes out on a soaking wet pillow. 

Then the next morning, because he's a professional and there are lives to be saved, he does up his bow tie, winds his rosary around his wrist, and slaps on a nicotine patch.

He will endure this.


End file.
